The Price of Magic
by Puddycat
Summary: Quaxo wasn't built to hold Mistoffelees' magic... EPILOGUE ADDED! I'm just too good to you guys...
1. Finding out

Yes, I know, cliché and waaaaay over-used, but I just felt like being mean to Quaxo in a non-funny way. Cruel, aren't I? Someone on the Randomninity board inspired this one (can't remember who, though. I think it might have been Flit, but I'm not sure. If anyone can remember, please let me know so I can give credit where it's due)

Disclaimer: Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS. Elliot?

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"_That's how you address a cat…_"

Quaxo heard the words of the last song of the ball fade into quiet contemplation as he regained control of his body. The Jellicles were all gazing at the sky, silently thanking the Everlasting Cat for everything they had, revelling in the feeling the annual Jellicle Ball had left them with; a feeling of awe, and early excitement for next year's Ball.

As he gazed at the fadingstars, Quaxo began feeling dizzy and light-headed, suddenly tired without explanation. His throat constricted, he could barely breathe, panic filled him as the dizziness increased.

"Vicky…" he just managed to whisper.

The white queen next to him turned just as the tux's world went black.

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Tugger looked down from his position on the boot of the car just in time to see Quaxo collapse. He immediately leapt off the car and down to where his friend was. Victoria was on her knees by the small tom's side before most of the other cats had registered that something had happened. Munkustrap was next over to the unconscious tom, having seen his brother's hurried jump from the car and two cats falling to the ground, one controlled in their descent and one not, out of the corner of his eye.

"What happened?" the silver tabby asked.

"I don't know," Tugger answered. "I just looked and saw him go down."

The other cats broke off from their contemplation, one by one, to realise there was something wrong with one of the tribe members. They gathered around Quaxo in concern but were met by Munkustrap glaring at them, his green eyes shining brightly in the sunrise.

"Back off," he told them. "Give him some air."

Old Deuteronomy made his way down from the tyre and over to the anxious group of cats. Munkustrap looked up at him from where he was trying to wake Quaxo, crouched on the ground next to Victoria. Deuteronomy stared down at the small tux with an unreadable expression on his face before sighing heavily. It seemed he knew what had happened.

"Get him inside, he needs rest," Deuteronomy said.

"Deuteronomy, what-?" Munkustrap began.

"He needs rest," the old leader repeated firmly, cutting his son off. "Don't disturb him. Any of you."

Instead of immediately following his father's instructions, Munkustrap stood to his full height and looked Deuteronomy in the eye.

"You know what's happened," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. But it's for young Quaxo's ears only, no-one else's. Now get him inside."

"But what-?"

"Munkustrap! Don't you dare disobey me. Yes, I know what's happened. No, you won't be told unless Quaxo decides he wants you to know. Is that clear?"

Before Munkustrap could argue any further, Deuteronomy turned away from him and walked slowly back to the tyre. Munkustrap's jaw slid from side to side as he got his anger under control again. The entire tribe was silent; they had never heard Deuteronomy speak like that to anyone, let alone his eldest son and next in line to be leader of the tribe.

"Munku," an accented voice quietly broke the silence. Mungojerrie.

The silver tabby turned to see what he wanted, and noticed that the stripy tom had moved from where he had been before Deuteronomy and Munkustrap began arguing; he was now in a position to help Munkustrap move Quaxo into the Jellicle's makeshift hospital. Munkustrap nodded to him and they took Quaxo's weight between them.

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Quaxo felt the fog that had clouded his mind retreat slightly. Not much, but enough to allow him to fully wake up and open his eyes. He flinched as he became aware of a headache that felt like someone scraping their claws down the inside of his skull.

Looking around, he vaguely managed to register that he had been moved – he was no longer outside under the dawn sky, but inside the makeshift hospital with the glare of the midday sun shining through gaps in the junk 'wall'. He stretched and yawned widely, still incredibly tired. He tried to remember exactly what had happened, but the only memories he came up with were ones of dizziness and panic. The door opened and Old Deuteronomy entered, alerting Quaxo to the fact that something was very wrong – Deuteronomy never stayed after the Ball unless something bad happened.

"Coricopat and Tantomile sensed that you were awake," Deuteronomy said softly as he approached the small tux.

"What happened?" Quaxo asked quietly.

"You collapsed just after the Ball finished," Deuteronomy told him. "Tell me, how have you been feeling lately?"

"Alright, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"It's just…" Quaxo paused, hesitating as he debated with himself about whether or not he should tell Deuteronomy. "The last few times Mistoffelees has had control, I've felt really dizzy, like I stood up too fast, or something."

Deuteronomy sighed sadly – he knew this would happen, sooner or later. He wondered if now was the right time to tell the little magician what was wrong.

"I don't know what's happening to me," Quaxo whispered.

Nodding to himself, the old leader decided that yes, this was the right time. Quaxo would only worry more if he didn't know.

"The story behind it all started years ago…"

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_Thirty Years Ago._

_A tiny black kitten had just been born in the junkyard. He was named moments later by his parents: Mistoffelees. Everything was completely normal until Mistoffelees was six months old, when he started doing things that couldn't be explained, like literally being in two places at once, disappearing in a flash of light, all things that were not normal for a kitten to be able to do._

_It was later proved that the kitten was a magician, the most powerful ever. Magic that powerful would never die. However, that gift didn't extend to the cat, who grew old and died like all other cats did. His greatness, and the things he did with his magic for the other cats, was never forgotten, although after he died the magic vanished._

_It returned years later when another magician was born into the tribe. Mistoffelees was absorbed into that young magician's body, and the cats that were alive at that time didn't think anything of it; they were just pleased to have Mistoffelees' powerful magic back in the tribe. As the kitten grew older, he started noticing that he felt different each time he let Mistoffelees take control of his body: he felt dizzy and light-headed, often passing out after performing any tricks that used a lot of magic._

_He was one and a half years old before things took a turn for the worst. The young cat called for Deuteronomy, and told him that he couldn't house Mistoffelees, that he was dying from it and it couldn't be helped. The cat used his magic to give the Jellicles something to remember him by, before breathing his last._

_It was years before Mistoffelees resurfaced, occupying the body of a tiny tuxedo kitten that had been orphaned and adopted into the tribe. The other cats discovered he had magic before Mistoffelees took up residence in his body, but the magic showed up so fast that they couldn't determine how much power Quaxo had on his own. Deuteronomy had asked to speak to the kitten shortly after Mistoffelees had made his presence known._

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"I can still remember what you said to me," Quaxo said. "You said 'never forget that you and Mistoffelees are two different cats and that you will always have the tribe to support you'. Why are you telling me all of this?"

"No-one but Mistoffelees was meant to have that much magic," Deuteronomy sighed. "You were only built to hold a small amount of power, not Mistoffelees."

It suddenly dawned on Quaxo why Deuteronomy was telling him all of this, why he had told him about the last cat to have Mistoffelees. Why he had reminded him that the tribe would support him, not matter what happened.

"Mistoffelees is killing me, isn't he?"

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Don't you just hate cliffies? I know the flashback was really rushed, but I'm doing an extended version of it as a separate story, and I didn't want to have an over-long first chapter. Any critique you feel like giving is appreciated.


	2. Coping

Sorry, sorry, and sorry again, this wasn't Flit's idea, it was Attila's. Sorry...

Warning - this chapter contains some scenes involving self-harm.

Disclaimer - do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or T.S. Elliot?

Thoughts are in italics, btw.

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"Be careful about when you use your magic and let Mistoffelees take control," Deuteronomy told the small tux quietly. "I'll let you get some rest."

He silently departed from the hospital, leaving Quaxo to sort out his thoughts in private. It was better if he decided which cats, if any, should know about what was happening to him on his own, with no interference from the old leader. Deuteronomy thought that Munkustrap should be told, but he wouldn't make Quaxo's mind up for him. The choice of who to tell was up to Quaxo, no-one else.

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Quaxo sighed – deep down inside he had known that he was dying, he just didn't know why. Now he knew that there was nothing that could be done, nothing that could help him, he was more scared of death than he had ever been before; even when his parents had been killed, he hadn't been scared. He thought of all the things he wouldn't live to see: it was highly unlikely that his best friend Tugger would settle down with a mate before he died, and even more doubtful that Quaxo himself would find a mate. There was no way that he would be able to see the kittens that he cared for so much have kittens of their own, no way that he would see his fifth birthday. He was three and knew that, without doubt, he would only get to four. He could feel Mistoffelees eating away at him, slowly burning him like acid.

He had a year left, at the most.

He stood up and quietly left the hospital, still deep in thought about what he had been told. As soon as he was outside, Victoria was next to him, gazing at him with concern in her eyes.

"What happened? Why'd you collapse? Did Deuteronomy tell you?" she asked, all in one breath and without stopping to let Quaxo answer.

"What d'you mean, 'did Deuteronomy tell me'?" Quaxo asked, curious about why the young queen had asked that question. Surely she didn't know?

"When you passed out, Deuteronomy told Munk to get you inside, but Munk kept asking what had happened, but Deuteronomy wouldn't tell him and said that he'd only tell you, and I asked did Deuteronomy tell you why you collapsed because I want to know if he's told you or not," Victoria said, again all in one breath and without a single pause.

"Yeah, he's told me," Quaxo said shortly. He had just found out he was going to die, he really wasn't in the mood to be pestered by kittens all day.

"And? What happened? What's going on? Why did-"

"Vicky," Quaxo cut her off quietly. She heard the note of pleading in his voice and looked up at him. "Please, just drop it. I really don't want to talk about it right now."

Victoria was slightly hurt at that; Quaxo usually talked about anything she wanted to talk about, she only had to ask something and he would tell her. Apparently he didn't want to tell her what was wrong, though.

"The other kittens are probably looking for you," Quaxo said. "You should go find them before they send out search parties for you."

"Hope you're better soon, whatever it is that's wrong," Victoria replied, giving Quaxo an affectionate nuzzle before going to find the other kittens.

Quaxo sighed; he knew he had just hurt her, he had seen it in her eyes, and he felt rotten for it, but he was still thinking about dying, and that maybe it would be better if she hated him when he died, because that way she wouldn't miss him as much and she would get over it quicker than she would if they were friends.

At that moment, Quaxo really hated Mistoffelees for causing him so much trouble.

"Hey! Quaxo!" someone called, just as the tux was about to turn to go into the pipe.

Looking around, he saw it was Munkustrap that had called him, and he remembered what Victoria had said: 'Munk kept asking what had happened'. He got the feeling that he wasn't going to get much time to think about things with the tribe's Protector bugging him to be told what happened.

"What?" Quaxo asked tiredly. Munkustrap opened his mouth to speak, and Quaxo just _knew_ what words were going to come out. "If you're going to ask what happened, save your breath, 'cause I'm not in the mood to be bugged about it and I'll probably just electrocute you."

Munkustrap shut his mouth and stared at the small tux. Quaxo had never threatened anybody before, even when the kittens were annoying him and wouldn't leave him alone.

"Are you alright?" Munkustrap asked.

"Oh, yeah, of course, never been better," Quaxo replied, putting as much sarcasm into his voice as he could. "I always snap at other cats when I'm feeling great."

"I was only wondering. It's called being a friend," Munkustrap said defensively. Quaxo winced.

"Sorry," he sighed. Suddenly the reality of everything hit home – _he was dying_. Death was something that could never be conquered, not even by a magician. "It's too much… I can't do it…"

"What? Quaxo, what's going on?"

The small tux didn't answer; he only shook his head and bolted into the pipe before Munkustrap could ask him anything else.

He curled up in the back of the pipe, shaking, almost in tears, terrified of what might happen in the end, scared of how it would feel to die so young without having lived even half of what should have been a long and healthy life. The other cats would pity him, give him sympathetic looks all the time, try to understand how it felt.

But they could never understand until it happened to them.

No-one could know.

Quaxo began chewing on one of his claws with worry; a habit he knew wouldn't last long. All sorts of thoughts were churning around in his mind, all sorts of questions that couldn't be answered, all sorts of 'what ifs' were floating around, all sorts of panicked thoughts that had never occurred to him before.

_What if one of the kittens finds out?_

_What if I die in front of them?_

_What if something happens and I don't die until I'm really old?_

There was silence in his panicked mind until one stray thought found its way to the front of his mind.

_What if I'm going mad?_ _Will the tribe still accept me if I lose my mind and go insane? I'm talking to myself now, and they say that is the first sign of madness…_

Quaxo put his paws over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the thoughts and erase everything that he had been told. He bit his lip as hard as he could, trying to use the pain to make him forget everything. More thoughts began forming again, and Quaxo shook his head, rocking back and forth in a vain attempt to comfort himself.

_Yes,_ he decided. _I'm definitely going insane. And there's nothing that me or the other Jellicles can do about it. I'm as good as dead already. WHY DON'T YOU JUST KILL ME NOW, MISTOFFELEES?_

Quaxo broke down. He couldn't hold it inside of himself any more, couldn't stop the tears, or the tremors that took hold of him. But no matter how many tears he shed, no matter how hard he bit his lip, the pain inside him was still there, attacking him with a ferocity the likes of which he had never felt before.

Without thinking, he extended his claws and dug them into his arm as deeply as he could. Blood poured out as he dragged them down his arm, and the silent sobs that wracked his body made the cuts jagged, the lines broken like the cat that was making them. Repeatedly, he dragged his claws over the cuts again and again, each time making them deeper.

Exhausted, he eventually collapsed onto the blanket that was in the bottom of the pipe. If he had wanted to move, he wouldn't have been able to; everything that had happened had proved too much for him to handle, both physically and mentally.

Quaxo suddenly felt like someone was gently sponging his arms and face to get rid of the blood covering them.

_I'm sorry it has to be this way,_ a voice said softly in Quaxo's mind.

_Mistoffelees,_ Quaxo hissed, correctly guessing who the voice belonged to.

_Please, don't hate me. This isn't the easiest thing in the world for me to do; watching every cat I inhabit dying because of me._

_But you still do it!_

_If I had a choice, I wouldn't. But we both have a purpose, and the only way either of us can fulfil them is with each other._

_So what's my purpose? To die?_

_No. That will be a result of it. You'll know when it will be._

_And that's supposed to make it easier on me?_ Quaxo asked incredulously.

_I'm sorry,_ Mistoffelees replied softly.

Quaxo looked down and saw that the blood has vanished from his arms. All that was left were the cuts, and they were healing fast enough to be seen. With a slight pinching feeling, the last cut closed, leaving no scar, no reminder of how close Quaxo had felt to having his spirit broken.

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As Quaxo sank into an uneasy and exhausted sleep, Mistoffelees sighed to himself. He had known that Quaxo would have a hard time coming to terms with dying, but he had assumed that the small tom would try to find a bright side to look on, like he did with so many other situations. He might accept it, eventually, but there was also the possibility that he would crack because of the fact that he knew exactly when he would die, and he might do something stupid out of fear.

Mistoffelees had to take care of the little tom in whose body he was currently residing. Quaxo couldn't break before he died. If he did, he wouldn't be able to help the tribe when they would need it most: when they would need their Conjuring Cat to lay his life down for them.

Mistoffelees was able to use a small amount of his power and not hurt Quaxo in the process. He had to use all of that magic, no matter how little it was, to protect Quaxo from himself, or neither of them would be able to help the Jellicles.

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Have you noticed I seem to have a bit of a thing for cruelty to tuxes? It's nothing personal, he's actually one of my favourite characters, it's just that he's also incredibly easy to be mean to...

Since this is almost fully written (I've only got to finish writing the epilogue), I should be able to update again soon even though I'm working around revision for some pretty major tests. I should actually be revising right now...


	3. Telling

Since I kept everyone waiting for ages last time (purely because I was too lazy to update - this entire story is finished, I just couldn't be bodged putting chapter two up) I feel like being an angel and putting this chapter up now. That, and I'm completely bored out of my mind. School holidays are not good if there's absolutely nothing for you to do. Anyways, enough of my ramblings - on with the story!

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS. Elliot?

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Months had passed since Quaxo had been told that he would die. Gradually he had stopped panicking about it, but that in no way meant that the horrid ideas that had driven him to cut himself had ceased; merely that he forced himself to not think about it. Mistoffelees had kept to his private vow to look after the small tux and try to keep him the same for as long as possible, but the moment Quaxo had figured out his fate, he had changed.

Quaxo was no longer the cheerful little tom that was still a kitten on the inside. He now avoided the other Jellicles wherever possible, and hardly spoke when he was around them. He wasn't depressed, exactly – at least, not depressed in the sense that he was breaking down in tears every five minutes – he just didn't see the point in doing a lot of things any more. He didn't play with the kittens any more, and flat out refused to show anybody any magic tricks.

The small tux had also changed physically: he no longer bounded around the junkyard like a hyper kitten; now he walked slowly with his tail and ears down, his shoulders sagging and his paws dragging on the ground. He had lost weight as well, something that was never good on a cat that was already very slim.

All of the Jellicles had been to see Deuteronomy with their concerns about Quaxo at least once, some of them many more times than they would ever let on. Tugger had been a frequent visitor, arriving at the vicarage wall every few weeks, each time letting Deuteronomy know just how worried he was about his friend by talking non-stop about the changes in Quaxo for at least an hour – not letting Deuteronomy get a word in edgeways – then growling in a low voice that his time was better spent keeping Quaxo company in case the tux felt like telling him what was wrong.

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After one such visit to the old leader, Tugger found Quaxo just as he was leaving the yard. He looked his friend over with a concerned eye; not many of the other cats had seen him up close lately, and they often asked Tugger how Quaxo was. Tugger never lied when he answered.

"Hey! Quaxo!" Tugger called. Quaxo turned to him and forced a smile. Everything he did seemed forced, as though he didn't see the point in doing anything but felt like he had to keep going for some reason. "Where're you going?"

"Just for a walk. I need to get out of the yard for a bit," Quaxo said quietly, his voice cracking slightly from under use.

"Mind if I come?"

Quaxo shrugged, and both toms began walking. The silence between them was ever-so-slightly tense; Quaxo was keeping himself in check – he didn't want to do or say anything that might mean Tugger figured out what was happening to him; he didn't think Tugger would handle it all that well. Tugger was trying to figure out why Quaxo wouldn't tell him; they had been friends since Quaxo was a kitten, surely that was long enough for them to be able to trust each other with anything?

The two toms turned down an alley that led to the back of a few restaurants that Bustopher Jones frequented, but Tugger instinctively knew that Quaxo wouldn't be stopping to see if his uncle was around. They were in the middle of the alley when several dogs appeared at each end. The two cats both looked for a way out, but there was no escape route available to them.

"Quaxo," Tugger said slowly as the dogs approached them. "I think it might be a good idea to let Mistoffelees take control."

The small tux hesitated for a moment; he didn't know what letting Mistoffelees out would do to him when he could feel himself getting closer to death.

_I'll use as little magic as possible,_ Mistoffelees promised Quaxo. _You know I don't want you hurt any more than you do, but you have to let me get rid of them._

Quaxo relinquished control of his body, and Mistoffelees immediately set to work. Lightning shot out of his paws towards the dogs that were currently in front of him, hitting the ground just close enough to give them a small shock and burn their paws, but not so close that it actually hit them. When those dogs fled, he spun around and fired the magic at the dogs that had tried to seize their opportunity and sneak up on him, without success.

Tugger watched as the dogs jumped whenever the lightning came anywhere near them, but they refused to retreat until Mistoffelees hit one of them on the nose with the lightning. They yelped and ran as though their tails were on fire.

"Nice," Tugger laughed as he watched the dogs run.

He turned back and saw Quaxo biting his lip with his eyes firmly shut as though he was trying his hardest not to pass out. The smaller tom swayed slightly, and Tugger stepped forwards and caught him before he could fall.

_Stay with me, Quaxo_, Mistoffelees encouraged. He could feel Quaxo on the brink of unconsciousness, and didn't want the young tom to pass out again. _Come on, you can do it, just stay with me and Tugger, we'll look after you. You're worrying Tugger, he doesn't know what's going on, if you pass out now it'll really freak him out, and you know how he gets when something scares him._

Of course Quaxo knew what Tugger did when he was scared – he was the only tribe member to have ever seen Tugger scared. The black and leopard tom had been terrified when Bombalurina nearly died… he never let on to the other cats that it had affected him, and they just assumed he was unconcerned about her because he had his fans to take his mind off of it. Quaxo had seen through the act, and he had seen Tugger's reaction to being forced to talk about it…

"Quaxo," Tugger called, right in the tux's ear.

"I can't do it," Quaxo gasped, tears beginning to fall down his white face as his resolve not to think about his fate shattered.

"What? Come on, sit down over here," Tugger said, gently leading Quaxo over to an overturned crate and sitting him down on top of it.

"I can't do it, I can't cope anymore…"

"What d'you mean? Quaxo, what's going on?"

"He's killing me! Mistoffelees is killing me, and I can't do anything about it!"

Quaxo leaned forwards with his head in his paws, his shoulders shaking as he tried, and failed, to fight back the tears. Tugger stared at him, completely shocked – how come Quaxo didn't tell him before? Then the full meaning of the words hit him, causing him to swear loudly – his best friend in the entire world was dying, and there was nothing that he, or any other cat, could do to prevent it.

"Bloody hell, Quaxo," Tugger said softly, placing an arm around the tux's shoulders to try and comfort him. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Quaxo just shook his head hopelessly; he honestly didn't know why he hadn't said anything. Tugger bit his lip as he felt a slight stinging in the corners of his eyes, his grip around his friend's shoulders tightening unconsciously at the thought of losing him.

Memories of all the trouble they had gotten themselves into washed over the two toms, both of them nearly drowning in the sea of grief they left in their wake. Never again would they get to torment Munkustrap without reason, or drench Cassandra when she was being too self-important.

From now on they would both be counting down the time Quaxo had left.

"I'm gonna miss you," Tugger said sadly, quietly.

Quaxo nodded, not needing to reply.

They sat in silence for a long while afterwards, before Quaxo stood up with a sigh.

"I should get back to the yard or everyone's going to worry," he said quietly.

"They're already worried about you," Tugger pointed out. "They don't know what's up, or why you've changed."

"Don't tell them," Quaxo pleaded. "It's hard enough without everyone else knowing as well."

"I won't. Not unless you want me to."

Quaxo smiled gratefully as Tugger also stood up.

"I've got to go and make sure the humans know I haven't run away," Tugger told the smaller cat.

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The two friends walked back to the junkyard gates, talking about everything except Quaxo's secret. When they got there, they parted ways, Quaxo going into the yard, Tugger not going to his humans, but instead sprinting as fast as he could to the vicarage wall.

Deuteronomy looked up as he arrived and smiled warmly at his son.

"I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon," he remarked.

"You knew!" Tugger almost shouted. He glanced around to check there was no-one nearby and lowered his voice. "You knew all along that Quaxo was going to die!"

"I can't deny that," the old cat said quietly, suddenly saddened.

"Then why didn't you say something before?"

"He wasn't ready."

"He isn't now!"

"I know," Deuteronomy admitted softly. "But he had to have time to come to terms with it."

"He's nowhere near 'coming to terms with it'," Tugger said, barely keeping the growl from his voice.

"Quaxo's told you. I'd say he's starting to accept it."

"How can anyone just accept they're going to die? It's not something where you can just wake up one morning and say 'oh, I'm dying, never mind, I'll be fine'!"

Deuteronomy stared intently at his paws – he had never thought of it like that. How does one face up to death?

"He's my best friend, Dad," Tugger whispered. "I can't lose him…"

Deuteronomy looked back up at his son just in time to see him angrily wipe away a tear from his cheek. He reached out and embraced Tugger, holding him and rocking him back and forth like he had done when he was a kitten as the black and leopard tom cried into his fur.

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I love making Tugger cry. Actually, if you want to get technical, that's the first time I've done it, but we won't mention that... Anyways, hope you liked it. If you feel like giving any critique, feel free - I can always edit stuff.


	4. Revealing

I get bored, therefore I update. Enjoy.

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS Elliot?

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It was the night of the Jellicle Ball, and Quaxo was waiting for Tugger by the gates. In the moonlight several of Quaxo's ribs could be seen, causing Tugger to wince on his friend's behalf. They headed into the junkyard without talking; there was nothing to say, because anything that needed to be said had been already.

Tugger could tell by how tired Quaxo looked that he would die soon, possibly even that night.

They were met in the clearing by several of the other cats, all of whom kept shooting Quaxo concerned glances. None of them asked about how he was because they knew they wouldn't be told.

The Ball began as it usually did, with the Jellicles creeping out from their hiding places and singing about what it meant to be a Jellicle cat. Two cats didn't dance: Quaxo, because he was tired, and knew that he had to conserve his energy, and Demeter because she was heavily pregnant with Munkustrap's kittens and in no fit state to dance. They both sat quietly on the tyre, keeping each other company while the others celebrated being Jellicles.

Demeter asked Quaxo several times why he wasn't out with the other cats, but each time he just shook his head and fixed his gaze on the rest of the tribe, which frustrated Demeter to no end. She was about to smack him around the head and shout at him to tell her what was wrong when he sat up straighter.

"Old Deuteronomy?" he said softly. The other cats heard and turned to the twins for confirmation that it was their leader.

"I believe it is Old Deuteronomy," they sang together.

"Well, of all things, can it be really?" the cats sang as Quaxo slid off the tyre and left the clearing to fetch Deuteronomy.

Their voices grew quieter the further away from the clearing he got. They could still be heard, although no individual words could be picked out, as Deuteronomy came into view.

The old leader sighed as Quaxo approached; he could tell the small tux had only a few hours left, at the most.

"It's soon, isn't it?" Deuteronomy asked.

"I can feel it," Quaxo replied quietly.

"Are you ready?"

"No. But there isn't anything I can do about it. I just have to live with it, as it were."

There was a few seconds' pause before Deuteronomy spoke again.

"I'll always be proud of you, and everything you have done. It was a privilege to have you in my tribe."

Quaxo smiled sadly as they approached the clearing.

The Jellicles moved forwards to greet Old Deuteronomy, and they all saw how much more subdued he was this year compared to how jovial he usually was. However, they soon moved on to the entertainment, which was a shortened version of the tale of Puss in Boots. Skimbleshanks played Puss, while Plato, Alonzo, Admetus and Pouncival were standing on each others' shoulders to make a very unsteady human, who keeled over and died at the end of the performance (mainly due to Plato's legs giving way from underneath him).

At the end of the performance, Demeter shrieked and huddled against Munkustrap. The Jellicles all recognised the signal – Macavity was around somewhere. They grouped together, but once again Macavity and three of his henchrats broke through and catnapped Deuteronomy. All of the toms, Quaxo and Tugger included, chased after him, leaving Bombalurina and Rumpleteazer to tell the queens and kittens who Macavity was and what he had done to earn his reputation.

The trail ran cold after they were past a few piles of junk, so the toms grouped off to search the yard. Quaxo and Tugger were accompanied on the search by Munkustrap, who seemed to be holding onto his temper with a very short string. They reached an alcove of junk, and split up to search it high and low for any clues that the henchrats had been past, like a stray piece of fur. Munkustrap made sure that Tugger was completely focused on searching before heading over to Quaxo.

"Hey, Quaxo," he began. Quaxo glanced up at him in acknowledgment before continuing with his search. "Look, what's been going on? You've been acting strangely for the past year, and you've barely danced so far tonight."

"Your point being…?" Quaxo prompted, his voice sounding tired.

"Everyone's worried about you; they want to know what's going on."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Maybe I would, if you'd tell me."

"Trust me, you wouldn't."

"What's gotten into you?" Munkustrap asked. "You haven't been yourself lately."

"That's hardly surprising," Quaxo snorted bitterly.

"What d'you mean?"

"Like I said before – you wouldn't understand," the small tux said shortly, before turning away from the larger tom.

"Try me," Munkustrap challenged, his patience wearing thin.

"No."

"The tribe's worried about you," Munkustrap hissed, his temper flaring suddenly. "They're getting themselves worked up over you, and you're just throwing it back in their faces by acting like a selfish, spoilt kitten! Tell me what's been going on!"

"If I wanted everyone to know, don't you think I'd have told them myself by now?" Quaxo growled, suddenly very angry.

"What could be so bad that you've felt the need to hide it from everyone for a year?"

"I'm dying, Munku!" Quaxo shouted suddenly. "I'm dying, and there's nothing that you or anyone else can do to help! So come on – tell me you understand how _that_ feels!"

Munkustrap stared at him, completely shocked. Surely he had to be lying? This had to be some kind of sick joke that Quaxo and Tugger had thought up together, it just had to be. One look into Quaxo's amber eyes confirmed Munkustrap's fears – the small tux was telling the truth. He was dying.

Quaxo glared at the silver tabby angrily for a few seconds before turning and stalking out of the alcove of junk. Tugger, who was behind Munkustrap, walked past his brother, being sure to roughly shove his shoulder out of the way as he went. He shot a glare over his shoulder at the larger tom before sprinting off after Quaxo.

Munkustrap stayed glued to the spot. Suddenly everything fit together – Quaxo always being tired, losing weight, not seeing the point in anything… Deuteronomy had known! The wise old cat had obviously told Quaxo he would be dying after the small tux had collapsed, and that was the time when Munkustrap could pinpoint the change in the small magician's attitude.

"What's happening?" a voice called. Alonzo rounded the corner, a concerned look on his face. "I heard shouting."

Munkustrap lowered his eyes to stare at his paws, suddenly ashamed of everything. He should have figured out what was wrong, he should have tried to do something instead of just sitting around waiting for Quaxo to spell it out for him.

"Are you okay?" Alonzo asked, noticing how shaken and humbled Munkustrap seemed. "What was all the shouting about?"

"It was nothing," Munkustrap lied. "We should make sure there aren't any clues or anything nearby, thenget back to the clearing andsee if anyone's found anything."

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"Quaxo! Wait up!" Tugger called. Quaxo stopped walking and waited for his friend to catch him up. "You should have just ignored Munku; you know how he can get sometimes."

"I might be able to ignore Munku, but I can't ignore the fact that I'm going to die tonight," Quaxo said bitterly.

"Tonight?" Tugger asked. No, it couldn't be tonight, Quaxo had obviously made a mistake. He couldn't die on the night of the Jellicle Ball, he couldn't die this soon. Tugger wasn't ready for it yet.

"Tonight," Quaxo confirmed softly. "I can feel it. But I don't want to go."

"I know."

"No, you don't. You don't know, and you never will. You can't understand what it's like, and you can't imagine how it feels to know exactly how long you've got left to live. You keep saying that you know, and that you understand, but all you're doing is fooling yourself into believing that you really do know how it feels. You don't, Tugger, so please just stop trying to pretend; it's not working."

Tugger waited patiently until he was sure that Quaxo had finished venting out his anger, frustration and fear before speaking.

"Sorry, Quaxo," he said quietly. Every single word the tux had said was true, and Tugger knew it. Why bother denying it? "It's just… I never know what to say, and I know that I'll probably never know what it feels like, so imagination's all I've got to go on."

"Be grateful you don't know," Quaxo replied softly, sadly.

"We should get back to the clearing – see if anyone's found anything."

"They won't have anything."

"How d'you know?"

Quaxo didn't answer – he couldn't. He just somehow _knew_ that there would be no clues, and that everyone would turn to Mistoffelees for another magical rescue. The last magical rescue that Quaxo would know…

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Dun dun duuuuuuunnnn! Next chapter - will Munkustrap murder Quaxo to save Mistoffelees the trouble? Is Mistoffelees working for Macavity? Will Puddycat _ever_ be able to think of another ridiculous scenario to put here? Find out in the next chapter of... _The Price of Magic_. Coming to a fansite near you quite possibly never. Unless you count this one. Which I didn't.

I'm getting pretty darn good at ruining the moments at the end of each chapter, aren't I? I feel all talented now... Anyways, as usual, critique is more than welcome.


	5. Departing

Quite possibly the last update for this story.

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS Elliot?

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Quaxo and Tugger arrived back in the clearing to find that what Quaxo had said was true – no-one had found any clues to Deuteronomy's whereabouts. The entire journey from the place he and Tugger had talked to the clearing, Quaxo had been talking with Mistoffelees.

_They're going to need you_, Quaxo thought to the more powerful magician.

_Not yet_, Mistoffelees replied. _It isn't time_.

_I know it isn't, but you're the only one that can get Deuteronomy back. The others will expect you to get him back as soon as we're in the clearing_.

_You'll know when it is, but until then, stall them! I'm not using my magic until I absolutely have to, and you're not dying until you absolutely have to either. Is that understood_?

Mistoffelees' voice was so firm and strong that Quaxo couldn't ignore it. He unconsciously nodded his head in response, forgetting that he was walking right next to Tugger, who couldn't hear the silent conversation.

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As soon as he entered the clearing, Quaxo was met by very loud encouragement to let Mistoffelees take control of his body.

_Stall them_, Mistoffelees whispered in his mind.

_How_? Quaxo asked.

_Tell them… Tell them you can sense the area immediately next to Deuteronomy, and there are more than a few strays guarding him_.

"I can't get him back," Quaxo said out loud. The cats stared at him. "Not right now, anyway. There are loads of strays guarding him, there's too much risk that some of them might get caught up in the magic and brought back here."

"Who cares?" Plato asked. "We can get rid of them."

"It's not that simple," Quaxo answered. Giving Tugger a meaningful look he repeated firmly: "I can't do it right now."

Tugger understood what he meant and gave him a short nod before encouraging the other cats to group off and try to think of plans to chase off the strays if Quaxo had to let Mistoffelees get Deuteronomy back right then. After they had all begun thinking up plans, Tugger dragged Quaxo aside, away from the other cats.

"What's he waiting for?" he asked, referring to Mistoffelees and speaking quietly so that the others wouldn't hear.

"I don't know," Quaxo replied honestly. "I know it's not time yet – I can feel it – but I think he's waiting for something else."

"Any idea what that might be?"

"No," Quaxo sighed, shaking his head.

Several cats ran to one of the clearing exits, and the two toms turned to see Munkustrap and Alonzo enter. Alonzo looked around for Cassandra and made a beeline straight for her, but Munkustrap remained where he was. He gave Quaxo a look that hinted ever-so-slightly at hurt at not being told sooner; he was the cat that everyone in the yard trusted, he should, by rights, have been told as soon as Quaxo found out that he was going to die.

Quaxo lowered his gaze, unable to look the silver tabby in the eye. He knew he should have said something sooner, but he hadn't been entirely sure how Munkustrap would react to the news of Quaxo's fate and he hadn't wanted the Protector to be running around making a fuss, such was Munkustrap's usual style.

Munkustrap had been about to walk over to the small tux when a deep, manic laugh rang out across the junkyard. The Jellicles immediately grouped together around the tyre, Demeter, as usual, pinning herself to Munkustrap's side and shaking like a leaf. Strays began appearing in the clearing, all of them creeping out from crevices in the junk the Jellicles never knew existed. Macavity himself stalked in not long after, his evil amber eyes scanning over the frightened faces of the Jellicles.

Quaxo suddenly knew – now was the moment to let Mistoffelees have control of his body for the final time. He let his magic flow into his paws so that they sparked ever so slightly, causing Tugger to grab his arm with concern.

"What're you doing?" he hissed in the tux's ear. Quaxo smiled sadly at him.

"Going out with a bang," he answered softly.

Tugger stared at him for a moment as though he was hoping his friend was joking. When he saw no lie in Quaxo's eyes, he sighed and let him go, nodding his goodbye and smiling sadly.

Quaxo began to walk purposefully towards Macavity, letting Mistoffelees out as he did so. Tugger watched him go and moved so that he was standing in front of the kittens to prevent them from running forwards when it became clear what would happen to Quaxo. Munkustrap saw him and detached himself from Demeter to help.

Mistoffelees stopped walking as Macavity began to approach him. He held out a paw and the strays and Macavity couldn't move. He moved his other paw around with slow circular motions. White smoke appeared in a large swirling pattern, and before long a dark shape began to take form within it. The Jellicles and Macavity immediately recognise it as Deuteronomy, much to Macavity's anger. As soon as the old cat was visible in the smoke, Mistoffelees instructed him to stand back. He complied, and Mistoffelees held that paw out towards Macavity as well.

_This is it_, the powerful cat warned Quaxo.

_Go for it. It's about time they found out how much magic you've got_, Quaxo answered, his tone determined.

_You know, Deuteronomy was right – you are a cat to be proud of_.

Mistoffelees turned back to smile sadly at the Jellicles, knowing how much it meant to Quaxo that the whole tribe knew that he would miss them. Tugger, Munkustrap and Deuteronomy all nodded and smiled back before Mistoffelees turned back to Macavity.

The Jellicles were forced to close their eyes and turn away by the brightness of the magic that followed. The hot white light and the wind that accompanied it ruffled their fur and allowed them to see through the lids of their eyes. Tugger had to fight his immediate urge to run forwards and stop Mistoffelees; he knew that it had to happen, and he knew what the effects would be. He had tried to prepare himself, but even after months of knowing, he still had to force himself to stay back and not go to help.

After almost ten seconds, the light faded and the Jellicles gingerly opened their eyes. There was no sign of Macavity or the strays in the clearing. The only indication to what had just happened was the small tuxedo tom lying peacefully in the middle of the clearing, almost like he was asleep.

Tugger detached himself from the stunned kittens and walked slowly towards his friend. He saw the soft smile on Quaxo's white face and realised that the small magician had found his peace at last. Leaning down, he checked for a pulse – just in case.

Nothing.

He stood up slowly, not entirely sure what to do next. Should he tell the others, or had they already guessed? Were they just too shaken to say anything, or were they already grieving? Deuteronomy put a paw lightly on Tugger's shoulder before drawing him in to his arms to comfort him as best he could.

Demeter walked slowly over to Munkustrap, who was staring at the small tux sadly. She nuzzled him and hugged him tightly, knowing how much losing a member of the tribe would affect him. He sighed and rested his head on her shoulder, too exhausted from everything that had happened that night to do anything else. Someone touched his shoulder lightly and he turned to see Victoria standing there, her white fur shining in the moonlight.

"Is he…?" she trailed off, not having to complete the sentence for Munkustrap to know what she was talking about. He nodded sadly, and the young queen bit her lip as tears began to form in her eyes.

The kittens looked at the adult cats as though hopeful that they were only playing a mean trick on them, but the expressions on the older cats' faces quashed those hopes right away. If it was a trick, then Rumpleteazer wouldn't have buried her face in Mungojerrie's chest to hide her tears, Tugger wouldn't have allowed himself to be hugged by his father like a little lost kitten, and Coricopat wouldn't have his arm wrapped around a weeping Tantomile.

"Dad," Tugger said quietly into Deuteronomy's fur. "Is there any way we can send him up to the Heaviside?"

Deuteronomy looked up at the sky; he could just see the horizon beginning to turn a slight pinkish colour, the first indicator of the dawn.

"I think so," he replied softly. He turned to the rest of the tribe. "Tonight, Quaxo allowed Mistoffelees to use more magic than ever before to save us all, knowing full well what it would cost him. If anyone is against this brave young cat going to the Heaviside, speak now."

Silence.

"Up, up, up, past the Russell Hotel," Tugger began quietly.

"Up, up, up, up, to the Heaviside Layer," the kittens and Munkustrap joined in softly.

The other cats began to join in one by one, adding their voices to the mix. Soon the whole tribe was singing, not only with their voices but with their hearts too; Quaxo had been a very highly respected and well-liked member of the tribe – he would be sorely missed.

It wasn't long before a bright light came down from the sky, completely engulfing Quaxo so that the Jellicles couldn't see him. When it faded, he had disappeared from their lives forever.

"_The mystical divinity _

_Of unashamed felinity_

_Round the cathedral rang 'vivat'!_

_Life to the Everlasting Cat."_

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I really need feedback for this chapter, or the whole of the story, really, because I'm not sure whether or not I should put up the epilogue. I personallythink it ends really well right here, and the epilogue would spoil it a bit, but I can always put it up and pretend it's got nothing to do with me if you guys really want it.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewedthisso far.


	6. Arriving

Due to popular demand (I didn't know you people liked this so much...) I'm putting the epilogue up (aren't I good to you?). I re-wrote it 'cause the original was just... urgh... and I actually quite like this version.

Thoughts are in italics, and any "typos" in the kittens' speech are supposed to be there 'cause I just randomly felt like writing some words how the little kitties would say them. There's also a fair bit of Angtsy!Tugger at the start...

Disclaimer - Do I _look_ like Andrew Lloyd Webber or TS Elliot?

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The next few days were hard on the Jellicles, especially for those who had been close friends with Quaxo. Tugger, in particular, was finding life in the junkyard difficult without the cheerful tux around to take his mind off of things. He had known he would lose his friend, but he had never fully realised just how different his days would be without Quaxo there to chat about entirely random and pointless subjects, or to talk through whatever problems they had.

It didn't help that the other Jellicles thought that they understood how he was feeling – they kept shooting him sympathetic glances, and asking him if he wanted to talk about it because they knew exactly how he felt: they themselves had been quite attached to the small magician. It was usually at that point that Tugger cut them off and pretended that he hadn't been affected by the tux's death in the least, and did they by any chance know where to get a decent helping of chicken pie?

He had tried grieving, he really had, but he didn't seem to be able to. Every time he was alone in his den, he would try to feel, try to cry, try to be anything other than mildly disappointed at his friend's death. But for some reason, the tears he so desperately wanted to fall never came. They refused to sting his eyes or soak his fur. He felt guilty for it; he didn't know why he couldn't grieve properly for his lost friend, but he was just too damn proud to ask if anyone knew why.

Maybe because he had accepted it before the actual event? No, that couldn't be it – even though he had known Quaxo would die, it had been too much of a shock to him for acceptance to be the cause.

Pride, perhaps? It was commonly thought that Tugger was too proud for his own good, and he had proven that to be fact when he refused everyone's offers for help with getting through his grief. No, it couldn't be pride, either – he wasn't proud when he was on his own and could let his guard down.

Could it be that somewhere subconsciously, he just hadn't cared about the small tux? That he had been selfish in their friendship, and had seen Quaxo as a way to relieve any stress he had and not worried about the little magical tom in the slightest? No, that couldn't be it, either – Quaxo had always been the first cat to deflate his ego if it got too big, and to warn him when he was getting close to sounding like a spoiled brat of a kitten. Tugger had always been grateful for Quaxo's friendship, and he would be until the day he died.

But apart from when Quaxo had told him he was dying, when had he ever properly listened to what the tux was saying? When had he ever listened to his problems and given him any advice that he could? He couldn't even recall what Quaxo's last rant had been about. Perhaps the reason he couldn't find it within himself to grieve _was_ because he had been too selfish and self-absorbed to see exactly how good a friend Quaxo had been too him. That would certainly explain a lot of things, such as the time he went to Deuteronomy after he had found out, and said _I can't lose him_. _I_ can't lose him. That sentence summed Tugger up perfectly. A friend was dying, and the only thoughts he had were of himself, and how it would affect him.

_Some friend I turned out to be_, Tugger thought bitterly. _Quaxo, one of the best cats this junkyard has ever known, ended up with _me_ as a friend. He deserved better. So much better…_

A knock on the junk "wall" outside his den pulled Tugger out of his bitter thoughts and back into the present. With a sigh he stood and went outside to see who it was. Jennyanydots was standing by the entrance with a large portion of her latest batch of mousecakes and a concerned look on her face.

"Mind if I come in, dear?" she asked with a friendly smile. Normally, Tugger wouldn't let anyone except his friends or Bombalurina into his den, but even curious cats have their manners, and Tugger was no exception. He moved aside so that the gumbie cat could pass and wondered idly just how many of her mousecakes he would have to eat before he could convince her to leave.

"Is something the matter?" he asked politely, trying to find the reason for her visit without asking her outright.

"Yes, actually," she replied. "I'm starting to get worried about you, Rum Tum Tugger."

"Just Tugger," said tom corrected. "And why? It's not like I'm planning on throwing myself off a junk pile or anything."

"Please don't talk like that, dear. You haven't been eating very well for the past few days, and nothing seems to bother you lately."

"Since when has anything bothered me before? And why should it now?"

"Rum Tum Tugger, Quaxo has just died, and you expect me to believe that you don't feel a thing?"

_Just go away_, Tugger thought tiredly. _I really don't want this right now..._

"I know you two were friends," Jennyanydots continued when Tugger stayed silent. Tugger rolled his eyes and turned away, hoping that she would get the message and leave him alone. The older queen's voice rose slightly. "Don't you turn away from me, kitten."

"I'm not a kitten," Tugger pointed out, his voice slightly raised as well. _Why won't she just go?Doesn't she get that I want to be left alone right now?_

"'Not a kitten'? In that case, start acting like a cat for once and forget about your reputation! Take care of yourself for a change, instead of your image!"

"Why? Tell me why, when everything else could get taken away from me at any minute, I shouldn't care what other cats think of me!"

"Because images fade, kitten! Have you ever wondered _why_ Grizabella was called a Glamour Cat? She relied on her looks too much, she didn't bother to let anyone get to know the cat inside. She lived for her reputation as a beauty, and when that disappeared, she was ruined."

Tugger stayed silent again, his back still turned towards the queen. He couldn't help thinking she had a point, though - he had often felt slightly resentful to the tribe for not taking him seriously as a cat, and the fact that he flirted with nearly every queen he laid eyes on and pulled as many pranks as possible didn't help matters. He had also felt slightly strange towards Grizabella, like he could imagine exactly how she felt becuase he knew that could be him in a few years. But, purely to keep up appearances, he had shunned her like the rest.

He knew that every word Jennyanydots had said was true - he really did rely on his reputation too much, and his reputation would vanish as he got older.

"So what now?" he asked. His throat felt slightly tight, and he had to force his words out. "You've given me the big speech and all, so what now?"

"You should know," the gumbie cat said softly. Tugger shook his head, having no clue and being true to his nature of being curious about things,but also wanting her to leave. She was hitting way too many sore points for his liking. He was about to tell her to go when she spoke again, her voice still soft. "I know Quaxo was one of the few cats you allowed yourself to care for... Even grown toms are allowed to cry, Tugger."

Before he knew it, the corners of his eyes began to sting and he had to work hard to keep his breathing steady and to stop himself shaking every time he took a breath. He looked down at one of his front paws, which was picking dirt out from under the claws on his other paw, biting his lip as he fought against the sadness that engulfed him. A paw rested lightly on his shoulder and he turned to see Jennyanydots standing with her arms outstretched towards him. She took a step forwards and reached up, wrapping her arms around his tall frame and embracing him like she would one of her own kittens.

Tugger finally broke down, shaking, tears streaming down his face as the gumbie cat comforted him. She led him over to the pile of blankets that served as a bed when Tugger wasn't at his human's house and forced him to sit down on them. Once he had calmed down slightly, Jennyanydots stood and walked over to where she had left the mousecakes and brought some back over to Tugger.

"Eat," she ordered. "You need them."

Tugger obliged, although he found it hard to swallow at first. After forcing one down, the rest followed easily. The gumbie cat watched him closely to make sure that he did eat them and didn't try to starve himself by covertly spitting them out.

"Jenny! _Jenny_!" a small voice yelled urgently. Jennyanydots immediately stood again and walked over to the entrance.

"What is it, dear?" she called to the owner of the voice. A small kitten ran up to the entrance and stopped momentarily to catch her breath, glancing around the den as she did so, noticing Tugger and his rather dishevelled appearance. After giving him a curious glance she turned back to the gumbie cat.

"It's Demeter, Jenny. Munk sent me to get you 'cause she's having her kittens," Jemima told her quickly. Moments later both Jennyanydots and Tugger were hurrying towards the silver tabby's den, where they knew they would find Demeter. Jemima ran alongside them and kept staring at Tugger.

"Why're you coming?" she asked eventually.

"'Cause Munk's gonna need me," Tugger answered. Jennyanydots smiled to herself when she heard that, satisfied that she had talked some sense into the black and leopard print tom.

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When they arrived at Munkustrap's den, Jennyanydots went straight in and hauled Munkustrap out by the scruff of his neck. The Jellicle Protector tried to protest, but the older queen was a lot stronger than she looked, and Munkustap didn't want to use force to get away in case he hurt her. Tugger held him back once the gumbie cat let him go, warning him that it was probably better that he stay outside or risk getting cuffed across the ears by an irate carer. He also couldn't resist teasing his brother slightly.

"And you don't want to risk the other cats finding out that you faint at the sight of blood," Tugger said with a wry smile.

"I do not faint at the sight of blood," Munkustrap replied.

"Oh, so you're going in are you?"

Tugger smirked slightly as the Protector gave up trying to get in. The black and leopard tom allowed himself to get lost in thought once more. Perhaps new life in the tribe would wash away the memories of death?

His musings were cut short by one particularly loud scream of pain from Demeter that sent Munkustrap straight over to the entrance of his den. A pleading voice full of pain could be heard from inside.

"Munk, get Munk in here," Demeter cried. No sooner had the words left her mouth then Munkustrap had run straight in with assurances that everything would be fine and that he was there with her so nothing could go wrong.

"Tugger!" someone called from behind him. He turned to see Bombalurina running towards him. "What's happening? Jemima came to get me, she said Demi's having her kittens."

Tugger raised his eyebrows slightly - he hadn't even noticed the kitten running off.

"Munk's in there now," he told the red queen. "It shouldn't be too long."

"Oh, so you're a midwife now, are you?" Bombalurina asked him shrewdly.

No sooner had she said that, Jennyanydots emerged from the den with a wide smile on her face.

"How's Demi?" the red queen asked at once.

"She's fine," the gumbie cat assured her. "And so are her kittens."

"How many?" Tugger asked.

"Three -two queens and one tom."

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Munkustrap gazed down at his mate and kittens with a slightly nervous expression; he wasn't sure how he was supposed to act now that he was a father. _A father to three beautiful kittens_, he smiled to himself. One was black with gold patches, one was white with gold patches, and the last one was black and white with a tuxedo pattern.

"They're beautiful," Munkustrap whispered softly. Demeter smiled up at him as he gently stroked her head.

"We should name them," she said, a soft purr entering her voice.

Munkustrap gently picked up the black and gold kitten, holding it as though it were made of fragile glass. Demeter told him the kitten was a little queen.

"What to name a little princess like you, hmm?" Munkustrap asked as he gazed down at the kitten with a father's love shining in his eyes. The kitten shifted slightly in his arms and buried her face in her father's fur.

"What about Dahlia?" Demeter asked.

"It suits her perfectly."

Munkustrap gently laid Dahlia down next to her mother and picked up the white and gold kitten, also a queen.

"And what about you, hmm? How about Katariana?"

Demeter smiled and nodded at the name. Her mate returned the kitten to her place next to Demeter and picked up the tux. This kitten was a little tom.

He watched the tiny kitten snuggle down into his arms and twist his silver fur around tiny paws. The kitten wriggled slightly until he was comfortable, and only settled completely when Munkustrap began stroking his head.

"I honestly can't think of a name for him," Demeter confessed after a long pause.

"You're a little mystery, aren't you kit?" Munkustrap said to the tiny ball of fluff in his arms. "I can think of plenty of names that all suit him, but at the same time-"

"-None of them sound quite right on him, I know."

"So what shall we call him?"

"What about Shirram?"

The two cats looked at each other, then at the tiny kitten, then back at each other. They both shook their heads.

"Solan?"

Again, they both shook their heads. The names they thought of just didn't sound right for the small tuxedo kitten.

"How about… How about Ketriman?" Munkustrap asked after yet another thoughtful pause.

"Sounds good," Demeter replied, trying and failing to stifle a yawn.

"You should get some sleep."

Demeter nodded and closed her eyes, and Munkustrap stayed next to her and watched her. After a few minutes, the black, white and gold queen opened one eye to peek at Munkustrap.

"You do realise that I can't get to sleep with you staring at me like that?" she asked.

"Sorry," Munkustrap said sheepishly. "I'll go and tell the others the news."

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The silver tabby exited his den and came face to face with both Tugger and Bombalurina. They stared at him expectantly as they waited to be told the news.

"Everlasting Cat, I'm a dad," Munkustrap said softly, more to himself than the other two. A huge, silly smile found its way onto his face as he repeated himself with more certainty than he had before. "I'm a dad!"

"Have you named them yet?" Tugger asked, smiling at his brother's obvious happiness.

Munkustrap told his two-cat audience their names, along with very lengthy descriptions of what they looked like, how Demeter was, how the kittens had recognised him as their father straight away...

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Two months later, the kittens were due to be taken to Old Deuteronomy so that he could officially welcome them into the tribe. Munkustrap and Demeter were busy - both had been cornered into agreeing to be elsewhere - so Tugger had offered to take the kittens. The new parents had noticed how Tugger seemed to be trying to leave his reputation behind, and both agreed that he was trustworthy and would keep their kittens safe.

"C'mon, Uncle Tug," Dahlia whined, running back from where she and her siblings had wandered off ahead. "You walk too slow."

"It's not me walking slowly, it's you three that keep running," Tugger replied as the other two kittens returned. "Give an old cat a break and walk, huh?"

All three kittens giggled at Tugger's remark - he was one of the very few cats that would make fun of themselves - he knew that in the kittens' eyes, everyone over six months was ancient, and he took great delight in hearing the kittens giggle whenever he mentioned how old everyone was compared to them.

They approached the vicarage wall, and the young tom, Ketriman, was the only one of the trio that didn't slow down on purpose. He turned back and tapped his paw on the ground impatiently as he waited for Dahlia and Katariana to speed up again. He frowned when they stopped completely, meaning Tugger had to pick one of them up in his mouth and push the other along. Ketriman stuck close by his side as they reached the wall.

Tugger jumped up onto the wall with Dahlia in his mouth, set her down, and had a short conversation with Deuteronomy before jumping back down without the kitten.

"Why'd you leave 'Lia up there all 'lone?" Katariana asked, confused.

"Deuteronomy wants to talk to all of you separately," Tugger told her and Ketriman. "And we're not supposed to be close enough to hear."

He ushered the two remaining kittens away from the wall to watch from a distance of ten feet. Not long after they had settled down, Deuteronomy signalled for Tugger to go and get Dahlia down from the wall and to bring up the next kitten. Tugger jumped up to the wall, picked up Dahlia, returned to the ground and took her back to her siblings in one fluid motion. He set her down and picked up Katariana to make the return journey. As soon as he was out of earshot, Ketriman began to question his sister about what Deuteronomy had said.

"S'what'd he say?" the tiny tux asked.

"Nuffin' much," Dahlia replied, rolling onto her back in a playful manner. "Just that if anything or anyone upset me to go an' see him an' he'll sort it for me."

"S'not very intrestin'," Ketriman remarked. Dahlia giggled suddenly.

"You said 'snot'!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Ketriman pounced on his sister, initiating a playfight. The actual fight wasn't terribly spectacular, but the tickling match that followed was. Tugger chuckled softly to himself as he watched, remembering how he had played like that with Munkustrap when they were kittens. He glanced up and saw Deuteronomy signal to him again.

Once Ketriman was up on the wall without Tugger, he didn't feel too much like the brave big brother any more; he felt more like the tiny kitten he actually was.

"I trust you already know what I was going to tell you from your sister," Deuteronomy said to the tiny tux kitten. Ketriman shrugged sheepishly. "Well, just in case she missed some out, if anything bothers you at all, please tell me and I'll sort it out."

Ketriman noded, and Deuteronomy was about to signal for Tugger when he paused to look at the kitten, who was watching his siblings.

"I nearly forgot," the old cat said. Ketriman looked up at him, taking in the Jellicle leader's smile. "Welcome back."

The kitten grinned and wound himself around Deuteronomy as Tugger approached to take him and his sisters back to the junkyard.

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That's it! That's your lot, hope you enjoyed it. Brownie points if you can guess who Ketriman is. I'll give you some hints: "...can now be reborn, and come back to a different Jellicle life." He's a tux, and I got 'Ketriman' from the word 'ahriman', which is apparently Persian for 'evil'. Think about it...

There was also a bit from the original version of this that I really liked, but couldn't keep in this version 'cause it didn't fit. So, behold Tugger's dream...

--It was after hours of bitter thoughts like that that he eventually fell into a fitful sleep, dreaming of cats in the weirdest situations. Bombalurina twirling a baton with all the grace and finesse of Pouncival on catnip, Munkustrap dancing the can-can, and Macavity singing soprano in the shower, to name but a few.--

Hehehe... I just couldn't let that bit go...


End file.
